Redux
by SouthernChickie
Summary: A trip through the Stargate erases the last twenty years of memories from the team. How can the SGC solve the problem when their greatest minds are in primary school? Maybe they'll understand when they're older.
1. Chapter 1

An analysis of how time passes differently for me, Samantha and Lt. Jack and how come

By: Danny N Jackson

9 years old

April 14, 1999

"That is priceless," Sam laughed, reading over Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel blushed and shook his head. "Yours can't be much better."

"Leave me out of this." Sam clutched her composition book closer.

"Oh, c'mon." He made a grab for it. Sam jumped up from the couch.

They were in Jack's living room, a common gathering place after a trying mission, or a mission gone bad, or a mission gone well, or any reason really. After three years of working together the excuses had gotten flimsy. Today, they were celebrating everyone making it back to reality in one, albeit bemused piece.

Daniel got up to pursue Sam leaving the composition book that had been a permanent fixture in his hand for the last three days, or twenty years depending on your prospective, to Jack and Teal'c. Jack, who had been watching Daniel scribble in that damn book for what felt like most of his life snatched it up and flipped through the pages.

"I'm amazed that at nine you knew what analysis meant, much less how to spell it correctly," Jack mused. "You were never normal, were you?"

"Not really, no," Daniel admitted, still trying to get Sam's book.

Sam, trying to protect the book, was nose first in the corner trying to use her body as a shield. But, Daniel was taller, and using it to his advantage. He was reaching around her from both sides and she couldn't twist away from one hand without risking him grabbing it with the other. It was only a matter of time before he got his hands on it.

"Ah!" This time, Daniel dashed across the room with Sam on his heels. He flipped through the pages as he dodged her.

"Daniel, no!" she pled with him.

"Oh." He stopped short mid-dodge, seeing what she was so embarrassed about. Sam crashed into him. "Sorry," Daniel mumbled, handing the book back to her.

"Is there something wrong, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.

"No, nothing," he answered quickly. "I was just a little more interested in the project that Sam was, I guess."

"You do realize the whole project thing was just meant to distract us, right?" Sam asked him, sitting back on the couch, the book tucked under her leg. "They just needed to keep us occupied."

Daniel looked down, embarrassed. "I do now," he admitted.

"Of course, I can't say anyone was too surprised when you figured it out," Jack said, still looking through the notes. "Even if you weren't all there mentally."


	2. Chapter 2

April 13, 1999

Stepping out of the gate, the view matched expectations: wide open fields, a temple on the horizon, the sun rising from the south, morning fog heavy around their ankles, the sound of a stream babbling in the distance. It was a nice change of pace. After three years of ambushes, hidden and hostile natives, and the occasional black hole it was good to see exactly what was expected on the other side.

"It's beautiful," Sam said in awe, gazing around at the trees and flowers in full bloom. "The video feed from the MALP didn't do it justice."

"It is indeed serene on this planet," Teal'c agreed.

"I don't like it," Jack said suspiciously. "It's too easy."

"Any planet that doesn't make me sneeze is okay by me." Daniel was already starting for the temple. "I can actually stop and smell the roses without making my eyes water."

"Daniel, what is the rule about you wandering off?" Jack went after him.

"Who's wandering? I'm walking, strolling really, to the entire reason we came here." He gestured to the temple.

"The rule is you don't," Jack ignored his protest.

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not a little kid, Jack. I can walk across the street without holding someone's hand."

Jack stared him down from behind his sunglasses.

"Oh, my g….okay, fine." Daniel signed dramatically. "Colonel Jack, may I please go to the temple so I can do my job?" he asked in a child's voice.

Jack thought it over. "Alright people, let's move."

Jack started for the temple. Teal'c followed. Sam gave Daniel a sympathetic smile as she passed him. He rolled his eyes again and fell in step beside her.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Daniel stopped and stretched his neck and shoulders, closing his eyes. He counted to twenty, clearing his head before getting back to work. The walls in the temple were everything he always hoped for when getting to a new site. Very little outside contamination, a language root he was familiar with and an amazing new puzzle to figure out. The morning fog still hung heavy around them, up to his shoulders since he was sitting on the floor, but it didn't seem to have any negative impact on the quality of the writing in the temple.

He held up his flashlight and settled in to start translating. As he shifted, his notebook fell closed in his lap and he kicked a reference book laying open on the ground in front of him. He didn't remember getting the reference out. In his excitement he must have been on auto polit. Brushing it off, he opened his notebook. There was something almost equally exciting about starting a new journal. It meant a new adventure, a new challenge, a new discovery just waiting for…

"Wait a minute," Daniel mumbled to himself. There was already writing in this book. The cover page listed the date, planet designation and mission purpose. Had he brought the wrong book?

No, all the information was correct.

The next page had notes of initial impressions, a quick paragraph about how annoyed his was with Jack, a doodle in the corner proving Sam had gotten a hold of the book at some point….

"I don't remember doing any of this," he said out loud, flipping to the next page. How had he made so much progress on the translation? They just got here. "Um, guys, listen to this: _I feel like I must have been in a trance doing this translation,"_ he read from the journal. " _By my watch over three hours have passed, but I feel as though we have just arrived."_

"You're over-reacting Daniel. You always go moon-eyed over your old stuff," Jack didn't even look up from the cards in his hand.

" _Jack doesn't believe me, per usual,"_ Daniel read pointedly. " _He thinks I've over-reacting. According to him I always act like this with 'old stuff'. He'd rather teach Teal'c how to play poker than listen to my theories."_

"It does not say that," Jack objected.

"Sam?" Daniel handed her the book.

"It does, sir. According this this he wrote it hours ago." She frowned, looking at her watch. "That can't be right." She grabbed Daniel's wrist to look at his watch. Perfectly in sync.

"Told you," Daniel shot at Jack.

"Oh, stop pouting." Jack finally got up and let go of his cards. "Carter forgets how time works, too." He took the journal from Sam and looked it over. "Is this a joke?" he asked, checking his own watch, then Sam's, then Daniel's.

"Yes, Jack, you got me." Daniel jerked his arm away, irritated. "Instead of working I've pulled off changing everyone's watches and faking eight hours of translation just to see how you'd react."

"Any theories, Carter?" Jack ignored him, looking through the notes.

"Without any real data I can't say," she admitted. "It could be some sort of localized"

" _Time loop_ ," Jack finished for her, reading from the journal. " _She says that it may be that only the temple itself is affected and that is why we're only noticing repeating our actions since we entered."_ He looked at Sam for confirmation.

"That was what I was going to say," she said hesitantly.

"Jack, I don't like it here," Daniel said, visibly more anxious than he had been in years. "This is too much."

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c agreed. "It would be unwise for us to remain."

"I agree, sir," Sam added. "Something is wrong."

"Me, too." Jack nodded. "Pack it up."

On the way back to gate, Jack lagged behind watching his new team. How in the world he ended up with this crew he wasn't entirely sure. One proper airman, an alien, and an archeologist.

The Jaffa he was impressed with. Anyone who could stand up to their oppressors and take up the righteous cause was good people in his book. Not to mention having that kind of muscle watching his six was always preferable to the alternative.

Carter was something else. Beautiful, warm, funny, smart as hell and a woman who understood what the military meant to him. He wished he could have met her in his younger days, they could have made it work. But, even if they could only ever be just friends, she was great to hang around with. And she could outsmart anyone any day of the week. He didn't understand most of what she said, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. And other people seemed to think she knew what she was talking about. And someone had to know what the hell was going on. It wasn't him, so it may as well be Carter. He had a sneaking suspicion she was the real leader of the team, he was just there to make sure someone shot at the dumb guy first.

And then there was Daniel. The gawky history geek who bluffed his way into one of the most important military missions in generations. He was…. Well, he was Daniel. He had heart and courage for miles and what he lacked in common sense he more than made up for in intelligence and enthusiasm. Lord help him, he had a soft spot of the kid. Against his better judgement he wanted ol' Dannyboy with him. Who knew why.

"Does this happen a lot?" Daniel asked Sam as they approached the gate.

"Does what happen?"

"Going on a mission, showing up, and just turning around and going home like nothing happened?"

"I call it a bust. It doesn't happen a lot, but we're still figuring out how all this works."

"I'd hate to waste all this energy getting excited over nothing," he grinned.

"We just traveled through a worm hole to an entirely new planet. You call that nothing?" 

Daniel shrugged. "I spent over a year living on another planet. That part is kind of normal to me."

"I'd like to visit Abydos sometime, if you think it'd be okay."

"Sure. I bet we can arrange something."

"Are you two going to just sit there gossiping, or get us the hell off this foggy rock?" Jack interrupted them.

"Yessir," Sam answered quickly.

"Right, I wrote it down… somewhere…" Daniel opened the journal in his hand. When had he taken it out of his bag? Why would he? There was nothing here for him to write about. "It should be right…. That's not right."

"Daniel, don't make me kill you. There is too much paperwork and my hand cramps up," Jack groaned at him.

"I wrote the date wrong," Daniel explained. "I don't even remember writing any of this…"

"Daniel, you're edging dangerously close to making me do paperwork."

"I got the address right," he assured him and started dialing.

Sam looked over his shoulder. "You just wrote a 9 instead of a 7. It happens."

"Who does that? If I had written 96 it would make sense, it's only April, new year and everything." He hit the center button and the worm hole engaged. "Why jump all the way to 1999?"

"It happens," Jack sent through the IDC. "Now go." He gave Daniel a little shove, then after a three count followed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jack stopped short. Where was he? Why were those Marines shooting at the big guy? What the hell kind of magic fire boom stick was that? And… holy crap! Why were those kids standing there?

Jack grabbed the kids, pulling them to safety as best he could, up the ramp in the far corner standing behind the big stone…. Thing. He pushed them down, a little boy and a little girl, covering them with his own body. He didn't know what was going on, but someone was about to feel the full wrath of Jack O'Neill. Cadet or not, he wasn't going to let this stand.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's SG-1's IDC, sir," Walter reported at Hammond's questioning look.

"They're early. Open the iris," Hammond ordered.

Teal'c came through first. Hammond hadn't even gotten out his usual 'welcome back' when the Jaffa started to fire on the defense team. Reflexively, and acting on standing orders, they returned fire.

"Teal'c stand down!" Hammond ordered through the speakers. "I said stand down!"

Teal'c did not acknowledge the order, but continued to fire, taking down several Maries with well-placed shots. When Maj. Carter and Dr. Jackson came through amid the fire-fight they froze. They didn't act to join Teal'c's fight, but they made no action to stop him, either. As they clearly didn't pose a threat at the moment, the defense team concentrated their fire on Teal'c, who didn't seem to notice his team coming through behind him.

Col. O'Neill came through just as Gen. Hammond entered the gateroom to confront Teal'c properly.

"Disable him!" Hammond ordered over the sound of weapons fire. "I want him alive!"

O'Neill seemed to have his wits about him more than the Major and Doctor. Though he made no move to join the fight for either side, he did move to protect his team. He grabbed Carter and Dr. Jackson and bundled them into a corner behind the gate once the wormhole closed. He kept them down, covering them with his own body, holding their heads close to his chest to shield their faces. Strangely, the more than capable and usually proud younger members of SG-1 didn't protest at all, and huddled closely jumping when a blast landed closely.

Teal'c shouted in Goa'uld a defiant proclamation in praise of Apophis as he fell to his knees, one shot too many finally wounding him enough to leave the defense team room to move in.

"Get him to lock up," General Hammond ordered when Teal'c finally went down. "No one goes near him until we find out what's going on. All injured to the infirmary," Hammond continued. "Colonel, do you care to tell me when in the hell is going on here?" Exasperated, he waited for O'Neill to explain himself.

Col. O'Neill stood, motioning for Maj. Carter and Dr. Jackson to stay put, tucked behind the Stargate. He faced Gen. Hammond, but kept himself between his teammates and potential threats.

"I'm waiting, Colonel," Hammond prompted.

O'Neill looked around the gateroom. "Where is he?" he asked the General when they made eye contact again.

"Excuse me?" Hammond frowned.

"Can we come out now?" Maj. Carter asked, peeking around the 'gate.

"What is this?" Dr. Jackson asked. He was already back on his feet, examining the Stargate closely, hands carefully clasped behind his back.

"Is my dad here?" Maj. Carter continued. "He's in the Air Force, too."

Dr. Jackson had stopped listening and was slowly walking backward down the ramp, eyes wide taking in his surroundings.

"Hold it, big guy," Col. O'Neill grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "I need you to stay put, okay?" He said gently, positioning the young man back behind the gate. "Both of you."

There was something unsettling about the behavior of SG-1. Teal'c, ever the obedient solider had refused to take orders or listen to reason while firing on his own people. Col. O'Neill wasn't interfering or asserting any sort of authority over his rebelling teammate. Maj. Carter and Dr. Jackson didn't seem to have any sort of grasp on what was happening. Easily distracted, their curiosity was strangely misplaced on an object they were both leading experts on.

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond was quickly running out of patience. "Explain the situation. Now."

O'Neill looked around the room again, then met Hammond's hard gaze. "You mean me?"

"Yes, Colonel. Who else?"

O'Neill smirked. "I'm flattered, sir, but I'm a cadet. And I have no idea where I am, much less what's going on here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dr. Fraiser examined Sam and Daniel first. They were restless and fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. While they allowed her to complete her exam, it seemed it was only because they recognized her as an authority figure. The part that concerned her the most was that they had a hard time answering basic questions. Neither one knew what day of the week it was or who the president was. The only questions they got right were their own birthdays. They even got their own names wrong, to a degree. Dr. Fraiser couldn't remember a time either one answered to Sammy or Danny, much less introduced themselves that way.

They did stick together, preferring to be next to each other through their exams, which wasn't entirely uncommon. SG-1 was fiercely protective of each other, and even in an altered frame of mind that seemed to be a quality they always hung on to. Even if they didn't know why.

Col. O'Neill complied with her instructions, answering each question with a yes ma'am, no ma'am. He even saluted her when he was brought in. There was definitely something very wrong with the team. Dr. Fraiser tried to keep her hypothesis to herself until she could run full tests on their blood samples. Right now she couldn't rule out anything.

"You have no memory of coming through the gate?" she asked as she checked Col. O'Neill's pulse.

"I don't know what that is, ma'am," he insisted. "As I told the General , I'm supposed to be at the Academy. The last thing I remember I was studying for my Engineering Exam. Then I was getting shot at in that room."

"And what is today's date?"

"Wednesday April 13, ma'am."

"And the year?"

"I am not a robot!" Daniel suddenly yelled, pushing Sam away from him. The two had been entertaining themselves, sitting side by side on the far bed, quietly giggling as they listened to each other through the stethoscope Dr. Fraiser had left with them.

"But you have a robot tooth!" Sam insisted, sticking her hand in his mouth to point it out. "Right here."

"I do not!" He pushed her again, this time she toppled off the bed.

"Hey!" Jack snapped at him, jumping off his bed and following Dr. Fraiser. She moved to check on Sam while Jack zeroed in on Daniel.

"Don't you ever do that again." Jack took Daniel by the shoulders.

"She's okay," Dr. Fraiser assured everyone, helping Sam up. "You're okay, sweetie," she smiled at her friend.

"You hear me?" Jack demanded.

"She called me a robot," Daniel pouted.

"I don't care, you never hit a girl. Hasn't your father taught you that?"

Daniel's eyes widened and his bottom lip started to shake. The adventure was over. A strange man was yelling at him and his new friend was being mean.

"Hey," Jack said gently, loosening his grip. "I'm sorry I scared you, but you could have hurt her."

"I want my mommy," Daniel said quietly.

"I know you do, buddy. The grown-ups are working on it. Right, sir?" Jack looked to Gen. Hammond.

Hammond and Dr. Fraiser exchanged a glance. She knew where his head was going. Robots were a long shot, after all she'd been able to draw blood from all three of them. But, if Col. O'Neill fully believed he was a cadet at the Air Force Academy, but still clearly himself, there was every chance Sam and Daniel were themselves as well. It also explained the Marines Teal'c sent to her infirmary.

"What year is it?" Dr. Fraiser asked Jack again.

"1974, ma'am," he answered, still trying to keep Daniel from crying.

"Seventy four?" Gen. Hammond repeated.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"That is Major Samantha Carter and that is Doctor Daniel Jackson." Hammond pushed the file photos across his desk to Jack.

Jack looked at the photos and through the office window to the briefing room. Dr. Fraiser was trying to entertain the kids, but they were more interested in looking at the giant ring in the room below that playing a game with her. Their noses were pressed up against the glass, ignoring her attempts to get them to sit down and talk with her.

"Their parents, maybe," Jack allowed.

"That's not who you see?"

"No, sir. They're, what, six? I see six-year-olds. You know, yea high," he held his hand three feet off the ground. "Missing teeth, runny noses, sticky fingers…."

"I see." Hammond took it all in. He wondered what the other two saw when they looked at O'Neill. Where he saw three fully grown adults, they must see each other as they looked in 1974.

"Any luck on getting their parents here, sir?"

"We're working on getting Major…" he stopped himself. "Samantha's father here, but we're going to need your help with Daniel."

"Sir, with respect, I'm not a babysitter. I'm a pilot. Or, I will be. Unless he's some sort of boy genius you're planning on making my wing-man I'd like to get back to where I'm supposed to be before I get reported AWOL and court marshalled before I even graduate."

"You're not AWOL," Hammond assured him. "You're just a little behind."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It seemed overkill, and a bit mean, to confine SG-1 to an isolation room or holding cell. They, apart from Teal'c, didn't seem to pose any sort of threat to the base. Cadet O'Neill was willing to follow orders, as long as the General promised to vouch for him with the Commandant. Sam and Daniel were as complacent as six year olds, who had been taught to obey adults, but hadn't mastered impulse control, could be expected to be. After being told their parents were on the way and they would get to go home they were calm enough to be willing to wait with "Mr. Cadet" as Daniel had dubbed him in the recreation room.

Hammond stationed two MPs outside the door, after making it clear that SG-1 was confined for their own safety and were allowed what they needed within reason. He left a selection of mission reports and SG-1's personnel files with O'Neill in hopes of jogging his memory.

When the General left the room, Jack relaxed from attention and made himself comfortable on the couch and picked up a report. He had intended on skimming through it, but three sentences in he was hooked. He read the report, by one Colonel Jack O'Neill, fascinated and shocked all at once. Space travel? Time travel? It was difficult to believe.

And, perhaps most strangely, the two little kids currently using chess pieces as army men were the team members addressed in the report. She was a theoretical astrophysicist who hadn't quite mastered pronouncing her r's. He was a three PhD holding genius with a runny nose and buckteeth. This was the flagship team representing Earth across the galaxy. A cadet, two children, and the giant man who had taken on an entire military base single handedly.

"Anybody hungry?" A man walked into the rec room. He was older, dressed in an outfit that belonged on Star Trek, and carrying several pizza boxes.

"Daddy!" Sam jumped up from the floor, running to the man and throwing her arms around him.

"Hi, sweetheart," the man hugged her back with his free arm.

"Can I have some?" the little boy asked, approaching shyly.

"I made sure to bring enough for everyone," the man assured him. He nodded at Jack and then set the kids up at the game table. He squatted next to the table, talking to the kids at eye level making sure they had everything they needed before taking a second pizza box to Jack, who was still sitting on the couch. "You're still an adult, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Jack stood up offering his hand. "I''m…"

"Jack O'Neill," the man interrupted him. "I'm Jacob Carter, Sam's dad."

"I put that together," Jack said. "Thanks for dinner, by the way."

"George arranged it. I showed up in time to play delivery boy. You mind if I snag a slice or two?"

"By all means."

They sat on the couch, the pizza between them, eating in silence. Sam and Daniel were giggling over something kneeling in their chairs so they could lean closer to each other and whisper.

"You know, I've always wished I could have more time with Sam as a kid. I was away so much working while she was growing up. But this…" Jacob gestured to what he saw as his adult daughter behaving as a child. "This is unsettling."

"Looks normal to me," Jack shrugged.

"They really look six to you?"

Jack nodded, chewing.

"How are you holding up?" Jacob asked.

"Apparently this is pretty normal for us," Jack shrugged, indicating the mission reports with his pizza crust. "We've been possessed, killed, gone back in time etcetera, etcetera. This too shall pass."

"So, you're taking in all in stride, then."

"I just want to get back to being a colonel. I like the idea of being in charge."

"I've seen you in action. You're a natural leader, son."

"You do," Sam insisted loudly.

"Do not!" Daniel shouted back.

"With my crack team of toddlers." Jack got up to see what the fight was about this time.

"I don't have to stay here forever, do I?" Daniel asked worriedly as Jack and Jacob approached. "The other man said I get to go home."

"But your daddy isn't here. You have to stay," Sam told him, straight faced.

"This is weird," Jacob shook his head.

"She likes to tease him," Jack explained. "Last time she called him a robot because she spotted a silver capped tooth."

"She has a brother," Jacob explained. "She's used to having someone to fight with."

Jack nodded. That explained a lot. "Okay, you." He crouched down next to Daniel. "Stop letting her pick on you. Stand up for yourself."

"You said I can't hit her," Daniel reminded him.

"He hit her?" Jacob asked.

"Pushed her off a bed in the infirmary."

Jacob chuckled. "I didn't think he'd have it in him. He's not a military man," he added at Jack's confused look. "Far from it."

"He surprised quite a few people with that move apparently."

"Sam," Jacob focused back on his daughter. "What did you say to him?"

"I just said he has to stay because his daddy didn't come," she explained innocently.

Jack looked at Jacob. Hammond had already explained it to him. They called in Sam's father and Teal'c's Jedi master to help them through whatever was happening. They were relatives with clearance. Jack and Daniel were on their own together.

"We're working on getting everything cleared up," Jack said. "Everyone will end up exactly where they belong."


	4. Chapter 4

General Hammond had breakfast brought to them. While the, now Lieutenant O'Neill, wouldn't mind, Maj. Carter and Dr. Jackson would not like the idea of being in public in their current condition. Though, through no small mercy, they seemed to have aged up to nine years while they slept. After a slight panic upon waking up in a strange place with strange people, things were smoothed over with pancakes and bacon.

"Sir," Jack said cautiously over coffee. "You say all this started yesterday?"

"It did."

"I feel like it was years ago. I barely remember."

"In a way, for you it was."

"And this sort of thing happens to us a lot?" Jack asked, looking at the reports piled on a side table by the couch.

"This, specifically, is a new situation, but it does fit the general pattern, yes."

"And that man," he pointed at Jacob who was telling a story to the kids, gesturing wildly to keep them engaged. "Is that little girl's father. Only she's actually an adult."

"Correct."

"And he's an adult, too."

"If you don't mind me saying that little boy you see is actually your best friend."

"Him?" Jack looked Dr. Jackson over. "He's got braces."

"He doesn't when he's older."

As if sensing someone was talking about him, the little boy looked up from Jacob's story and locked eyes with Jack. He smiled uncertainly and Jack gave him a little wave. Taking that as an invitation, he got up of the floor and walked over to the men sitting on the couch.

"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Danny."

"Hi there,'' Jack responded. "I'm Lt. O'Neill. You can call me Jack."

"I'm General Hammond," the elder man added. "You doing alright, son?"

"Are you in the Air Force?" Daniel asked with the bluntness of a kid who hadn't learned to mind his own business. "Sam and her dad said everyone here is in the Air Force," he added with a reassuring nod as if letting him know he was in on the secret.

"We are," Hammond told him. "What about you?" He had granddaughters his age. He knew they liked to be taken seriously, even if they had no idea what they were talking about.

Daniel grinned. "I'm nine," he explained with a laugh. "And I'm going to be an archeologist like my mom and dad. Do you fly planes?" He abruptly changed the subject, trying to squeeze into a space on the couch much too small for the thirty year old man he was, but just the right size for how big he thought the nine year old he thought he was.

"Little big for nine aren't you?" Jack grumbled scooting to make room.

"Do you?" Daniel asked.

"Do I what?"

"Fly planes."

"Yes, I do."

"Does your plane have guns? Have you ever shot anyone? Is it scary? Where do you get to go? Have you ever been to Egypt? Egypt is my favorite. I used to live there."

"Best. Friend. Sir?" Jack asked incredulously.

Hammond tried to suppress a smile. "I call them like I see them."

Jack looked back and forth between the general and the chattering boy next to him. The subject of his ramblings changed every three sentence s.

"Have you ever been to Greece?" he came up for air- wide eyed, waiting for an answer.

"Does… does it have an off button, sir?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

There was an off switch, courtesy of Sam's father.

"We've got a job for you two," Jacob said after breakfast, producing two composition notebooks and several pens.

They looked at him anxiously, ready for their assignments.

"There is a problem that we need help solving. You guys are uniquely qualified to help out. That is, if you're up for conducting an experiment," he teased.

He laid out the situation for them. At nine they were strangely receptive to the idea that their consciousness had regressed after they traveled to a foreign planet. The word of Sam's father seemed to be enough for them to accept that they were actually adults and aliens were real. Whether they truly believed what they were told, or if they were simply accepting the parameters of a theoretical experiment, was unclear to Jacob. But, he didn't push the question. If it kept them busy and helped them eventually understand what was happening to them then it was good enough.

"She's been a scientist since she knew what science was," Jacob shrugged, sitting down next to Jack as the kids devised their plan. "I figure he must have been the same way. He's always taking notes and writing everything down. She always wants to know how it works."

"No need to explain." Jack slouched and laid his head back on the couch. "Mute button." He closed his eyes.

"You alright, Jack?"

"Just a little headache," he waved it off. "Listening to them yammer all morning really takes it out of you."

Jacob chuckled. "Get used to it. Neither one of them grows out of it."

"Yipee."

With a commiserating pat on the back Jacob went to see if he could help with the real research, leaving Jack to his nap and the kids with their work. Jack woke with a start when the base doctor, Fraiser if he recalled correctly, came by.

"Sorry ma'am," Jack got to his feet.

"Please, sit." She smiled at him. "I just want to check in on you and take another set of samples.

Jack sat and allowed her to draw blood. "How did we check out, ma'am?"

"The samples we took yesterday all appear normal. But I want to check again because you all are still changing."

"Looking for tiny robots?"

"Sir?"

"I read about how I got tiny robots in my blood and turned into an old man. Is this like that?"

"Not that I've seen, no."

"Any ideas?"

"Not yet, sir," she admitted.

"I'm Lieutenant, Major Fraiser," Jack said. "Ma'am," he added.

"Right," she smiled indulgently. "Anything I should know about, Lieutenant?" she asked checking his pulse.

"Headache," he admitted.

"Did you notice was triggered it?"

"No, ma'am."

"If it happens again, make a note of it for me. And you can always send for me, too."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, rolling down his sleeve.

"Okay, who's next?" Dr. Fraiser turned to the remaining members of SG-1.

Sam looked up from her notebook. "Do we have to?"

Daniel sneezed. "Did Lt. Jack do it?"

Dr. Fraiser tried to smother a smile. "You have a fan," she teased Jack.

"I said 'hi' to him," Jack shrugged. "Now he won't leave me alone."

"Sounds about right," she said turning back to Daniel. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

"He keeps sneezing," Sam said accusingly.

In response, Daniel sneezed on cue and wiped his nose on his arm. "It's allergies," he said.

"I can take care of that in a minute. Right now I need a volunteer."

Sam and Daniel looked across the table at each other.

"You do it."

"You do it."

"You do it."

"Oh, for the love of…" Jack groaned from the couch. "Dannyboy, you're up."

Daniel looked at Jack, then obediently put his arm out. "Don't make it hurt, okay," he bargained with Dr. Fraiser.

"Don't think you're not next," Jack pointed at Sam. "Or I'm telling you dad on you."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

 _Jack doesn't believe me, per usual. He thinks I am over reacting. According to him I always act like this with 'old stuff.' He'd rather teach Teal'c how to play poker than listen to my theories._

Jack read over the journal Dr. Jackson had been keeping on their most recent mission. The scientists on the base had combed over it word for word looking for clues. All they'd found was a translation of some old writing that Dr. Jackson had been working on. An apparent dead end, Hammond had it brought to Jack to see if reading it through triggered his memory. Every word was as foreign to him as the mission reports he'd been reading all morning. Fanciful tales he'd written about himself weren't familiar to him. Boring translations written by someone else weren't familiar, either. It was like reading a prayer book, with weird symbols, doodles, and – the only interesting part- personal opinions and whining of the man the gawky kid with the runny nose was apparently going to grow into.

 _Sam isn't sure what's happening, or even if it really is. She thinks it could be some sort of localized time loop. She says that only the temple itself may be affected._

Jack snorted involuntarily. So much for that theory.

"What's a localized time loop?" Sam asked. She had perched herself next to him on the couch and was reading over his shoulder.

"I have no idea," he admitted.

"Is that what happened to us?"

"I'm not sure."

"Did you write that?"

"He did." Jack nodded to Daniel who was sitting by himself in the corner, for once not buried in his notebook. He was curled in a ball, chin on his knees, staring blankly ahead. "I think you broke him," Jack quipped.

"He misses his mom and dad," Sam told him. "He got a headache and then he just got sad."

"How about you?" Jack couldn't help it, the kids were growing on him. He'd always had a spot for kids. Plus, he had been reading up on his team, which on some level these kids were.

She smiled shyly and made a point look him in the eye. "I'm fine. Girls are more mature than boys, so this doesn't bother me. I'm very mature for my age."

"Hummmmm," Jack nodded. "How old are you guys now?"

"Ten," she answered proudly.

"Great. Only twenty more years to go."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hi," Daniel nervously approached the man sitting on the couch, clutching his notebook protectively. "You're Lt. Jack, right?"

The man looked up at him with an amused grin. "Captain, actually. But you can just call me Jack."

"Right." Daniel nodded and hurriedly made a note. "Can I ask you some questions?" He showed Jack his notebook, pages upon pages of notes he'd been making. "I'm doing an experiment," he explained.

"Permission granted, Airman," Jack said indulgently. Every memory he had of this kid involved his 'experiment'.

Daniel settled cross-legged on the couch facing Jack. "Did you just have a headache?"

"Yes."

"How long did it last?"

"I'd say about ten minutes."

"Huh, Sam and I both said seven," he said thoughtfully.

"Seven sounds about right," Jack hedged.

"No, no, you said ten. This has to be as accurate as we can make it." He carefully marked down ten in the proper space on his chart. "Do you feel disoriented after?"

"Yes. But it doesn't last as long as it used to."

Daniel looked up. "Really?"

"Sure," Jack shrugged. "I remember you guys. It's like I get to see you every year. The most awkward and uneventful family reunion ever."

"You remember us?" Daniel perked up and started scribbling.

"Of course. You just had a growth spurt, she has a new haircut."

Daniel glanced over at Sam who was playing chess against herself.

"You should see if she wants to play," Jack suggested. "Live life instead of writing it down."

Daniel smiled self-consciously and shook his head. Somewhere over the last several years he had gotten shy around Sam. Jack had fuzzy memories of the two being inseparable, huddled together over games they made up as they went along. Then puberty hit and the games stopped. They took turns pestering Jack, Daniel interested in his project, Sam giggling a lot.

"You like her," Jack gently teased, catching Daniel watching Sam over the rim of his glasses as he pretended to go over his data. Daniel looked up briefly, before shaking his head and going back to work. "She's cute," Jack prompted him. "Go talk to her."

He shook his head again.

"Why not? She seems nice."

Daniel mumbled something.

"What?"

He looked to make sure Sam wasn't listening. "Girls like her don't like boys like me," Daniel repeated quietly.

"Like her?"

"Pretty girls. Popular girls. Girls at all, really."

"Girls like confidence," Jack encouraged him. "Go ask if you can play chess with her." He gestured for the teen to get up. "Confidence isn't really your thing, is it?" He asked when Daniel stared at him wide-eyed.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked, dejected.

"Definitely not your thing," Jack sighed. "Why don't you show me what you're working on?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You figured it out," Gen. Hammond repeated looking at the earnest faces of Dr. Jackson and Maj. Carter sitting across the table from him.

"Danny did most of the work," Maj. Carter admitted.

"Sam helped me figure out the formulas," Dr. Jackson added, blushing at the attention. "And Captain… I mean, Jack, helped us with the last part. The math got too hard."

Gen. Hammond glanced at Jacob. The entire point of the 'experiment' was to give the budding geniuses something to do, and maybe help them grasp what was happening. No one realistically expected anything to come of it.

"Captain O'Neill helped you?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's really smart," Dr. Jackson said and Maj. Carter nodded.

"Let's face it, George," Jacob said with a chuckle. "That's the only thing that could make this situation any weirder."

"You wanna see?" Dr. Jackson was getting impatient.

"They're kinda excited about it, sir," Jack said sheepishly.

Dr. Jackson launched head first into the details of what he had been doing. What had started out as the sloppy game of a child had morphed into a fairly sophisticated tracking of time, memories, and symptoms. They came to the math and Maj. Carter jumped in.

"It's pretty basic," she said humbly. "It's roughly three hours and 42 minutes between headaches, which is 222 minutes. So, every .6 minutes here we live through a day in our past."

"But," Dr. Jackson cut in. "Jack's headaches last longer than ours do, so we're not all in sync." He showed Hammond and Jacob the chart he'd been working on. "But the time always works out to the same 222 minutes between each new year. Sam and I have started getting their faster than Jack."

"And, as we get older the headaches last longer for us, too," Sam added. "We can't really time is properly with what we have."

"This," Dr. Jackson held up his left wrist, showing his watch. "Which is the coolest watch I've ever had."

"Uh-oh," Maj. Carter took Dr. Jackson's wrist, looking at the time. He blushed fiercely and suppressed an embarrassed giggle. "Another one is coming," she explained.

"In eleven minutes if their calculations are correct," O'Neill agreed glancing at the chart.

"May I?" Jacob asked, gesturing for the notebook. "Selmac would like a look."

"Selmac?" Dr. Jackson asked, handing over his research at O'Neill's go ahead. "Who's that?"

Jacob paused briefly, then there was a slight change in his demeanor. "I am here," an entirely new voice came out.

Dr. Jackson's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. Maj. Carter pushed back from the table in shock. O'Neill grabbed them both by the arm, pulling them away, and positioned himself between them and Selmac.

"You never told me your dad was an alien!" Dr. Jackson bounced, excited.

"News to me," she mumbled, trying to sound tough and not scared.

"I do not mean to frighten you," Selmac said. "I only wish to review your findings."

"Who's scared, this is awesome!" Dr. Jackson tried to maneuver around O'Neill to get closer. O'Neill held him fast by the collar.

"No disrespect, sir," O'Neill said to Gen. Hammond. "But I don't want _it_ anywhere near these kids."

"I just have a couple of questions," Dr. Jackson started.

"Quiet," O'Neill barked at him.

"Dad?" Maj. Carter asked hesitantly. "Are you there?"

"Your father is here," Selmac assured her. There was another pause and Jacob's voice returned. "Sam, honey, I'm still here. Everything is fine."

"I don't like that," she said flatly. "Why would you do that?"

"It's a long story, Sam. But, everything is okay. I promise."

"Don't do it again."

He smiled. "Okay. I won't."

"Man…" Dr. Jackson whined under his breath. O'Neill glowered at him and he tucked his chin in submission.

Jacob directed his smile at Dr. Jackson. "It's okay, he can ask his questions."

"As I said, sir," O'Neill interrupted before Dr. Jackson could start. "I may not outrank this one's father," he jerked his thumb in Carter's direction. "But you told me to take care of this one," he pulled back Dr. Jackson by the collar. "It'd rather keep _it_ away."

"Now hold on there, Colonel," Hammond started.

"Captain, sir."

"Captain," he corrected. "Both Jacob and Selmac have been very valuable assets to the SGC. Not to mention they've been here helping since we contacted them."

"Yeah, well, I don't know him from alien. That whole switch-a-roo gives me the heeby jeebies."

"Me, too," Carter admitted.

"I'm not scared," Dr. Jackson tried to twist out of Jack's grip. "Where does the other guy go? Who gets to pick who's in charge? Are there more of you? What planet are you from?"

"Shut it, kid," O'Neill hissed at him through clenched teeth. "And stop squirming."

"Lemme go then."

"Captain I am ordering you to stand down," Gen. Hammond said sternly.

"Under protest, sir." O'Neill relaxed his grip, but still held Dr. Jackson back.

Sam didn't move and stayed firmly in planted behind O'Neill.

"It's okay, honey. I understand," Jacob assured her. "We'll wait until you're ready."

"Nah-ah," O'Neill shushed Dr. Jackson before he could start in with more questions.

Jacob caught Dr. Jackson's eye and gestured he would read the notebook, winking. Dr. Jackson glanced at O'Neill to make sure he wasn't looking before grinning broadly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The headaches came perfectly on time, according to the kids' predictions. Jack watched helplessly as they sat at the table miserably with their heads buried in their arms. He knew he was next. Four minutes, that was what the chart said. Four minutes until eleven minutes of agony. The only real problem was his agony overlapped with their disorientation and fear. Though, they were hitting twenty now and should be able to work through it more themselves. A few years ago they had come up with an idea to help keep everything straight.

Uh-oh. He felt it coming, right behind his left eye, creeping up on him, which meant….

Three, two, one….

"Gah," Daniel groaned opening his eyes, squinting against the florescent lighting. He rubbed his face and startled when Sam sat up across the table from him.

"No more," she moaned.

Daniel looked around the increasingly familiar room. "Not this again."

"Still," Jack corrected him, dropping the kid's… well, man now really, notebook on the table in front of him. "Catch up."

Frowning at the gruff man, Daniel took the notebook d found three folded letters tucked inside the cover.

"You're Samantha, right?" he asked the woman sitting across from him. She had long blonde hair and fair skin. When they made eye contact he got a little nervous, she was pretty. Even when she frowned skeptically at him, taking the offered paper from him she was pretty. His mouth went dry when her fingers brushed his.

"Jack?" he said, voice too high pitched in his nervous fluster.

The older man eyed the offered letter wearily. This was getting old.

"Hold onto it for me," Jack said. "I'm not quite there, yet." He went back to the couch, sinking into the cushions and tilting his head back.

"You okay?" Daniel asked.

"Just read." Jack dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Across the table, Sam sighed and folded the paper again. "Guess it beats writing that term paper. What are you supposed to be doing?"

"Um…" Daniel fumbled glancing over his own letter, written in the careful penmanship of a fourteen year old trying to be grown up. "Oh, right." He nodded to himself.

He was back in the rec room on a military base. According to his former self/ future self- good grief, how did that work?- he worked here and all this was just some accident and eventually things would go back to normal. At least that's what some people who claimed to be friends said.

"I'm supposed to be grading papers," he answered her question. "Freshman lit. I sort of feel like I am grading them."

"Like you're in two places at once?" Sam asked.

"Exactly," he agreed.

"Guys," Jack groaned from the couch. "Shut up. Eleven minutes. Please."

Daniel waved his letter at Sam. "Apparently he's a bit behind… and mean."

She smiled and reached for his notebook, eyebrows raised, asking silent permission.

"Don't laugh," he mouthed and slid it across the table to her.

She started reading, smirking at his childish observations, genuinely impressed by the sophisticated experiment that had evolved. Between Daniel and Sam they had been able to pinpoint how long a 'year' lasted and when the next migraine would be triggered. At one point they had gotten stuck when calculating the durations of the migraines. It had taken several rounds of pestering, but they roped Jack into helping them figure out the formula to predict how long the migraines would last. They got a little longer each time, but it wasn't based on how want times someone went through it.

Jack theorized that it was the person's relative age that determined it. The real test of the theory would be in six years, or in 22 hours and 12 minutes, when Sam and Daniel aged to 26, the age Jack had been when they first started keeping time based off more than just estimations.

Sam smiled at Daniel and he distracted himself arranging chess pieces. Her letter explained that he was shy and a little awkward, so she started setting up her pieces too. It seemed they had abandoned a previous game and there was no way of knowing whose pay it was, so they started over.

"Touch the clock and I kill you both," Jack mumbled as Sam slid the clock into position. She shrugged and settled her chin in her hands, studying the board.

They were less than five moves into their game when General Hammond and Jacob came in. Sam surged to her feet at the arrival of the superior officer. Still in the throes of his migraine, Jack struggled to get up, with an apologetic grimace. Daniel stood up too, since everyone else was.

"As you were," Hammond allowed Jack to fall back onto the couch. "We're here for Dr. Jackson, anyway."

Perking up, Daniel grabbed his notebook and pen off the table. "I have a lot of questions." He strode across the room, stopping short as Jack's hand reached out and grabbed him by the belt as he passed.

"Sir," Jack said not opening is eyes. "Heeby-jeeby."

Daniel frowned and looked to the others for help.

"If you want to find out what's happening, I suggest you allow us the use of your linguist," Selmac said irritability.

"Well, I, uh, don't really know if I can help," Daniel admitted. "But I'll certainly try." He took a step forward but Jack still had a grip on him. "Can't you just order him to let me go?"


	6. Chapter 6

The Tok'ra had sent two researchers to the temple after hearing what happened to SG-1. Apparently, the same thing happened to them. Now two cultures were counting on a linguist who was still terrified of the upcoming defense of his dissertation.

"No pressure, Danny," he said to himself running his fingers though his hair, startled to find it wasn't its usual shaggy mess. "Hindi, you can do this. Just find something you recognize and go from there."

Nothing came to mind. Helpless, he looked around the office shelves crammed with books, artifacts and trinkets.

"If I were a reference on Indo-Aryan languages," he mumbled to himself flipping through the dusty volumes. He sneezed a few times.

"Bless you."

Daniel spun around at the voice.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Gen. Hammond apologized from the doorway. "Any progress?"

"No," Daniel admitted. "No progress. I have the language I think it evolved from, but I'll have to go back several thousand years. It should be doable. I, uh, I'm sure… pretty sure that…" he rubbed at his temples. "Sorry, I just need a little time to…"

"You alright, son?"

Daniel looked at his watch. "Great," he sighed. "What's the point? I'm just going to have to start all over in twenty minutes anyway. "

"You're about to move on to another year?"

"Yeah."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Hammond asked.

Daniel shook his head, sitting on the floor, leaning against the shelf. "Time me, I guess?" He mumbled before cradling is head in his arms.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"How's it going, kiddo?" Jack asked as Sam dared to open her eyes.

She gave him a side-long glare. Looking him up and down she scooted further away on the couch wondering why she was sitting so close to him. Without a word, he handed her a piece of paper with her own writing on it.

"I remember," she told him, not looking at the letter. "We're Daniel?"

"He toddled off with an alien the first chance he got. Apparently that's his MO."

"Are you okay, sir?" she asked looking at him uncertainly. He was pale and, even though he was sitting, seemed unsteady.

"Peachy."

"If you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem peachy."

"Keen observation."

"Are you going to be sick?"

"Not part of the plan, no."

"Do we have a plan?" Sam asked. It seemed they were just winging it.

"You be quiet, I don't get sick, everyone lives happily ever after." Jack leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Right." Sam nodded and picked up one of the mission files they had been busying themselves with recently.

It was strange reading her own words describing a fantastical adventure that had already happened, but she didn't remember happening, because as far as she could tell it wouldn't happen for almost six more years.

Where were they now? To her memory it was 1989, the report she was reading was dated 1995. There was something reassuring about knowing that she would earn the PhD she was currently working on. Apparently she does, or did, well enough she is considered a leader in her field.

The second report she grabbed, dated 1994, was written by Jack O'Neill, her CO and the man silently praying for death next to her. Most of her memories of him were of him telling her to be quiet or telling off-color jokes while they ate. She had a vague memory of him protecting her from being shot at, but it was hard to tell what was and wasn't real at this point.

If she closed her eyes she could see her tiny apartment. Smell the pizza from last night and coffee she made this morning. When se concentrated, she could even read the trashy romance novel she kept to help her clear her mind after pulling an all-nighter. A decent enough distraction, she settled back on the couch, eyes closed reading about Constance and her Highland lover.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Daniel opened his eyes and stretched his neck. He was sitting on the floor in a strange room, leaning up against a bookshelf.

"Doctor Jackson?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. There was a man in an Air Force uniform sitting at a desk watching him.

"You're not Jack," Daniel said as a moosh of memories flooded his mind. Usual Jack was there when he woke up from a migraine.

"I'm General Hammond."

"I know. I was just expecting Jack. What am I doing here?"

"Translating, Dr. Jackson. We have footage of the planet you were on when this happened to you. You're going to translate the text."

"I am?" He had just completed his PhD a couple months ago. It was a little over whelming being tasked with something so important straight off the bat.

"You are," Gen. Hammond said in a tone that left no room for arguments. "Now get up here and get to work."

"Right," Daniel nodded hastily, getting up. He tried to brace himself on the bookshelf behind him, but lost his balance knocking off several volumes in the process. Mumbling to himself he rushed to clean up the mess, but got distracted by several field journals that had fallen open. He stopped and sat back down, reading over an alien translation.

"Dr. Jackson, while I'd usually indulge your attention span, we may be running out of time."

"Sure, no, sorry. Right. I just had a thought," Daniel kept looking through the journal.

"Dr. Jackson?" Hammond prompted him when he didn't continue.

"Right, um, okay, right," Daniel fumbled over his words, his brain going too fast for his mouth to keep up. "I take a field journal on every dig, so it stands to reason I'd do the same for each planet."

"You do."

"So where is the journal for that planet?" He pointed at the TV screen where a tape had been paused showing the writing in the temple.

"Colonel O'Neill has it."

"I need it." Daniel shifted into drive, getting to his feet. "If we're lucky and the me in the future… the past… the one that went to that planet already got a start I can use that to-"

"Just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you," Hammond interrupted him.

"The journal and any reference materials I may have taken with me." Daniel spotted a coffee maker sitting in the corner- a little shrine to the addiction he'd developed over the years. "And fresh coffee."


	7. Chapter 7

"Knock, knock."

Daniel looked up from his monitor, surprised by the sudden interruption, a little irritated, too. He'd finally gotten some real headway.

"Sorry," Sam smiled nervously at his glare.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Sam," she introduced herself awkwardly. She didn't remember Daniel having a gruff side.

"I know that," he said impatiently.

"I came to see what you were doing." She faltered. This was not the Daniel she had become friends with. She remembered the sweet, shy, fumbling chess partner she'd been passing the time with. The boy she'd grown up with. The man in front of her was frowning, stern, walled off. "I thought I could help."

"I've got it." He turned his attention back to his notes, bracing himself for the punchline, the sarcasm, the geek joke. He'd been down this road before. Pretty women didn't talk to him because they were interested in him or what he had to say. They were interested in the guy they thought they could make him into. Some figment of their imagination. And then when it turned out he was nothing more than just him….

"Sorry," Sam turned to leave. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Just wanted to help."

"Wait," Daniel stopped her. This was Sam, not Sarah. Sam, who he'd spent his childhood with. Sam who had never had any motive other than to be his friend since they were six. "I'm sorry. I just broke up with my… well, she really broke… really she left me," he admitted. "Nothing to do with this, obviously. And certainly nothing to take out on you. It just feels like it's happening right now." He sat back in his chair and sighed. "It's my fault she left, anyway, I guess."

"I can still leave," she offered, understanding his mood.

"No, it'd be nice to have some company," Daniel assured her. "I could use a friend right now."

"Need a distraction?" She smiled walking across the office to him.

"Please."

She pulled up a stood and sat next to him. "It looks like you've made some good progress."

"I have, actually," he forced himself to perk up. "It's a similar language to our Hindi. It's fascinating, really. According to my research, to people who inhabited planet, uh," he looked at the cover page of his field journal. "PX3-899 were taken from Earth thousands of years ago. So it's really just a matter of finding the right root of…" he stopped. "Not fascinating to normal people."

"It is, honestly. I'm just amazed you've figure so much out in just a few hours," she admitted. "It's impressive."

"Not really," he assured her. "I've been working on this theory for years, that extra-terrestrial beings came to Earth thousands of years ago and…" Daniel cut himself off. "Apparently I'm right, which is nice to know."

"So, you're developing a theory and using the proof at the same time."

Daniel took a minute to unravel what she'd just said. "Yes, I guess. Weird, huh?"

"It makes me wonder if you developed the theory because you know it's true."

"It makes you wonder what?" he couldn't unravel that one.

"Earlier today I was reading a book."

"Okay…"

"I didn't have it here."

He stared at her blankly.

"Okay," Sam started at the beginning. "Right now it is 1999."

"Right."

"But for us, it's 1992."

"Right."

"I, while physically in 1999 was able to read a book I owned in 1992. All I had to do was concentrate." Sam looked at him expectantly. "You see?"

"What's your specialty, again?"

"Theoretical astrophysics."

"I'm a linguist. I can translate what you just said into over a dozen languages. I will not understand what you mean in any of them."

Sam sighed and tried to think of another way to say it. "If I can interact with the past, maybe my past self could-"

"That's it!" Daniel interrupted her, grabbing a seemingly random book and flipping to an even more random page.

"What?" Sam asked, dumbfounded. "What did I say?"

"It's not past life- it's past self. It's not…" he excitedly rambled comparing his reference book to his scribbles and both to the monitor. "I was wrong- the other me- the past me in the future…" he trailed off distracted by his own ramblings.

Sam watched him, eyebrows raised as he practically danced in front of her, grabbing books and print outs and journals haphazardly in his arms.

"I figured it out," he grinned at her, rushing into the hall. "You coming?" he asked, poking his head back in the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, jogging to keep up with his pace.

"To see the General."

"How do we get there?" An airman had escorted her to Daniel's office. She had no idea how to navigate the featureless halls.

Unfazed, Daniel hopped on the elevator and stopped the first airman he saw when the doors opened on another floor. "Hi. I'm Daniel Jackson," he introduced himself. "This is…"

"I know who you are Dr. Jackson, ma'am," the airman interrupted deferring to the higher ranked Major as well.

"Oh, good, um," Cut off mid-introduction it took him a moment to regain his momentum. "We need to get to Gen. Hammond, but we don't really know where we're going," he admitted with a reflexive, embarrassed grin.

"I heard something weird was going on," the airman said patiently. SG-1 running around the base in various phases of sanity wasn't all that uncommon. "Maybe we should go talk to Dr. Fraiser, first."

"Excuse me?" Daniel asked.

"She's just down the hall. She'll be able to help." The airman tried to usher them out of the elevator.

"No, no, no. We need Gen. Hammond," Daniel insisted stepping out of the airman's grip.

"What is all the noise?" an irritated voice said from around the corner. "I have patients who need…" Dr. Fraiser cut herself off when she saw who was causing the commotion.

"I found them wandering the halls, ma'am," the airman explained.

"I'll take it from here," she dismissed him.

"Hi," Daniel flashed a familiar smile at her. His I-know-it-doesn't-seem-like-I-know-what-I'm-doing-but-I-swear-I-do-please-listen smile.

Sam stood next to him with a familiar smile of her own. The tight lipped I-have-no-idea-why-I-listen-to-him-but-here-we-are smile.

"Let me give you both a quick once over and then we'll talk," she sighed. SG-1 was going to be the death of her. From the outside looking in she was sure their antics were entertaining, but day-in and day-out it was a drain.

"You don't understand. I figured it out and we only have…" Daniel glanced at Sam who checked her watch.

"Twenty-two."

"Twenty-two minutes before I forget everything and have to start all over."

"Okay," Dr. Fraiser acquiesced. "But full checkups after."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So the me that went to the planet was completely wrong. He made the assumption that just because the religion on that planet evolved from the same place as our planet's Hindu religion that they'd have the same morals and goals. Because he operated off his own assumptions he assumed this meant reincarnation and the goal was traditional, in our minds, enlightenment but it's not. It's incredibly sloppy, really. I'm embarrassed he made such a rooky mistake."

"Doctor, we are running out of time," Hammond prompted him. "Cut to the chase."

"It's a pilgrimage site for the dying," Daniel said. "Something there, the spring, fountain, flowers, something gives the pilgrim the ability to re-examine their life. To relive it, in a way, and prepare themselves for the afterlife." He gestured to the incomprehensible notes on Hammond's desk. "A way to accept your mistakes and make peace with your faults so you die with an honest soul."

No one spoke. Hammond, Jacob and Sam looked at eachother, then collectively turned back to Daniel.

"If we hadn't been in a blind panic over what was happening, if we had gone there expecting it, Sam, Jack, and I could have relaxed and enjoyed the ride."

"You're confident about this, Doctor?"

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "I know I'm young and I don't look like I should be qualified to make these…"

Hammond put up his hand, stopping Daniel. "You don't have to convince me, son. I know you well enough to know you're usually right. Jacob," he turned to Sam's dad. "I assume you'd like to inform the Tok'ra of the good news."

"I should." Jacob looked a Sam. "Still bothered by it?"

"The alien still there?" she asked.

"Selmac knows when to stay out of it."

"Future you doesn't mind, Sam," Daniel reminded her. "Otherwise they wouldn't have called him as soon as something weird started happening."

Hesitantly, she stepped up and gave him a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Sammy," Jacob responded.

"I love you, too, Dad."

"Daniel, you're a hell of a kid," Jacob shook his hand, still keeping one arm around his daughter's shoulders.

"I'm not going to get to ask you my questions, am I?" Daniel asked suspiciously.

"You won't want to after you see the Stargate in action," Jacob told him. "Sammy, come see your old man off."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hammond couldn't help but smile to himself. The second the wormhole closed Maj. Carter and Dr. Jackson had rushed the gate.

"Did you see that?" Sam asked. "You could actually see the fluctuations in the event horizon."

"Can you make it move again?" Daniel called to the control room.

"Not right now," the man at the controls said through the speaker.

"Where did they find it?" Sam asked no-one in particular.

"Giza," Daniel answered. "Back in the 20s."

She looked at him, having not expected an answer.

"I just got here," he admitted tapping his temple.

She nodded. "What about the symbols?"

"Don't know yet."

"Keep me posted."

They stayed in the Gateroom investigating until the migraines hit. Even then, they jumped right back into action as soon as they were able. Daniel had more to more information as each moment passed and he kept Sam up to date.

"Oh, hey, I just met Jack," he perked up straining to look at Sam around the gate. "He's in a bit of a mood. Kind of a jerk, really."

He went back to sketching the symbols on the gate and she kept examining the stone.

"I'm going through the wormhole!" Daniel shouted to get Sam's attention.

"What's it like?" she asked, excited.

"It happened so fast," he was bewildered for a moment, sitting on the floor, eyes closed, concentrating. "It just sort of happens. Oh, my god. Sam, I was right!" He opened his eyes. "Everyone tried to stop me and I was right the entire time!"

"The wormhole, tell me more about the wormhole."

"It only lasts a couple seconds. It's completely disorienting, but it happens so fast I can't really explain it."

"I can't wait to experience it myself." Sam looked wistfully at the gate.

"I can't believe I was right."

They settled on the platform, side by side, and Daniel described what he was seeing in the past.

"What?" Sam asked when he suddenly went quiet.

"Where's Jack?" Daniel scrambled to his feet.

"Why? What's wrong?" Sam followed Daniel into the hall.

"Have you seen Colonel O'Neill?" Daniel asked a passing airman. He asked again and again, everyone they passed. Now with familiarity of the base he made a bee-line for the rec room. It was empty.

"Shit." Daniel kicked the wall. "Where would he go?"

"How would I know?" Sam asked, taken aback by the sudden change in temper.

"Sam, this is important, I have to find him." He held her by both shoulders, not giving her the option to look anywhere but at him.

"Daniel, what's wrong?"

"We have to find him."

An idea came to him and he took off again, back to where they had come from.


	8. Chapter 8

Hammond didn't question it when Dr. Jackson burst into his office desperate to find Col. O'Neill. He'd been around the two of them long enough to trust their instincts when it came down to it. Once it had been discovered O'Neill had signed out and his truck was gone, Hammond got his own car and started driving with the anxious archeologist in the passenger seat.

"What has you so worried, son?"

Dr. Jackson stared, unfocused, out the window. "Not my story to tell. He just… he might be in trouble."

"Something that happened on Abydos?"

"Yeah."

Hammond nodded. He had never gotten the full story of what happened on Abydos. O'Neill's initial report had been less than truthful and an outright lie in some areas. The second set of reports, Dr. Jackson's included, mostly discussed what happened after the initial mission.

 _Brothers in Arms_ was more than a cute name for the bonds made after fighting side by side in a war. Units and teams became families. SG-1 was a prime example of that. But sometimes the bonds that formed were undefinable and defied logic and reason. Col. O'Neill and Dr. Jackson shared one of those bonds. It made no sense and it was impossible to explain. It jut was. And whatever happened between them on Abydos, whatever it was that they never told anyone, that was what forged their bond.

That was what sent Dr. Jackson scrambling out of the car before it stopped. That was what sent him running at full speed toward the house shouting for his friend.

"Go away, kid," a voice answered.

"Jack?" Grateful to hear his voice, but unable to pin point where it was coming from, Daniel squinted into the darkness around him.

"It said beat it."

Gen. Hammond said nothing, but pointed Daniel in the direction of the ladder at the back of the house that lead to a small widow's walk on the roof.

"Yeah, well, I'm coming up anyway," Daniel announced, nodding his thanks to Hammond.

Jack was sitting in a patio chair, beer in one hand, 9mm in the other. He tightened his grip on both when Daniel appeared at the top of the ladder.

"Hey," Daniel greeted tentatively, eying the gun.

"I know why you're here," Jack all but growled, sneering.

"So we can skip to the part where you give me the…" he cut off when Jack adjusted his grip, finger curling around the trigger. "Jack, please."

Neither man moved for tense seconds. Finally, gathering his courage Daniel reached out and put his hand over Jack's and the gun.

"I'm not leaving," he said resolutely, gripping the top rung of the ladder, trying to steady himself. "Either you get it over with, with me right here, or give me the gun."

Jack turned to look Daniel in the eye as he raised the gun to his temple. Daniel kept his hand over his. Jack didn't let go of the gun, and Daniel didn't let go of Jack. They each refused to be the first to break eye contact, a silent battle of wills. Neither one of them knew how long they stayed like that. Frozen in a stand off.

Jack had the advantage, sitting on the deck. More than once, Daniel had to shift his feet as the pressured of sanding on the thin rung of a ladder started to hurt his toes. His feet were going numb, but he wouldn't let a little discomfort make him let his friend down.

Jack glared at the man who stubbornly refused to leave him alone to his grief. He knew that in the past Daniel stopped him. That they all, in time, made it home from Abydos. But, by then Sarah had left, Charlie was still dead, and it was still his fault. It was still too much to deal with. It was all too much to be blindsided by.

He could still hear the gun going off. This gun. The one that felt so at home pressed up against his temple. The gun that killed his son. The gun that could kill him, too, if it weren't for the goddamned kid trying to stare him down.

Jack flexed his jaw, resolute. This was right. Death was what he needed, what he deserved. He let Charlie down. He let Sarah down. He ruined his family. Lost everything. No amount of running around the galaxy was going to make up for it. Saving the planet didn't mean anything if there was no Charlie to grow up on it.

Determined to get his way this time, Jack narrowed his eyes. To his surprise the eyes that stared back at him were no longer determined, or defiant, or even angry. They were scared, shocked, and panicked.

"Jack!" Daniel screamed, reaching out with both hands as he dropped.

Without thinking, Jack let go of the beer and the gun making a grab for his friend as he fell. He snagged Daniel by one wrist and the front of his shirt, the momentum and weight pulling Jack from his seat and to the deck. He kept a firm grip on Daniel until he was sure he'd managed to get his feet under him.

"You good?" Jack asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'm good," Daniel nodded, still catching his breath. "I'm good," he repeated, more for himself, lowering off the ladder and onto solid ground.

Jack was almost instantly at his side, wiping beer and glass out of his friend's hair and checking for injury.

"Feet are a little numb," Daniel offered by way of sheepish explanation

"You're more stubborn than a mule," Jack grumbled, turning Daniel's face so he could get a look at a cut on his neck from beer bottle debris.

"I know."

"About as graceful as one, too."

"I know."

"Thanks, kid."

"Don't make me save your ass again, Jack."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"T!" Jack opened the door with a large, drunken grin. "What's it been? Twenty years?"

"I believe it has only been a matter of days, O'Neill."

"Eh, tomato, tomah-to." He gestured Teal'c into the house. "You brought Carter! And Pizza!"

"Hi, sir," she smiled brightly. As soon as she regained her memories of SG-1 Sam persuaded Gen. Hammond to let the team get together for the remainder of their situation. He readily granted her request. After all he'd let Jack and Daniel stay off base, there was no reason to keep the others under lock and key now that they knew where they were and what was happening.

"Danny, Calvary is here!" Jack called into the living room.

Daniel's head popped around the corner. "I'll get more beer."

"How much have you two had, sir?" Sam asked as they settled in from an impromptu team night. Beer bottles littered every surface in the living room.

"Oh, I'd say we've been at it for the better part of two years," Jack admitted.

Daniel came back from the kitchen with three beers and an orange juice. He handed out drinks before settling on the couch next to Teal'c.

"Where you been?" he asked, leaning in closely as if anticipating a secret in answer.

"Master Bra'tak believed it prudent I return to Chulak while my state of mind was not sound. Once I regained my memories of the Tau'ri and our shared fight I immediately returned to the SGC."

Daniel smiled broadly and leaned against Teal'c, putting his head on the jaffa's shoulder. "Missed you."

"And I you, Daniel Jackson."

"What about me?" Jack asked indignantly.

"Indeed your absence O'Neill, as well as yours Captain Carter, was deeply felt."

Sam saluted with her beer and Jack nodded, satisfied.

"I regret I was unable to be with my team during this time," Teal'c continued.

"You didn't missing anything." Jack assured him. "Carter just giggled at everything and Dannyboy all but crawled into people's laps to ask questions about everything he laid his eyes on."

"I feel that would have been most amusing. I wish to hear stories."

"We couldn't have been that bad, sir," Sam protested. "And I don't giggle."

"I probably was that bad," Daniel admitted.

"You were a pain in my ass," Jack pointed a finger across the room at him. "A cute little buck toothed pain in my ass."

"It feels good to be back to normal," Sam leaned back in her chair. "I know we're still two years behind, but I like having everyone here for it."

"No one I'd rather have on my six," Jack agreed.

"Indeed," Teal'c nodded.

Daniel looked up from studying his pizza when he felt everyone's eyes on him. "What?"

"Okay, I'll take you two on my six," Jack amended. "Daniel can stay here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Alcohol was a bad idea," Jack moaned. He was in his favorite armchair suffering through a migraine with a hangover warming up in the wings.

"Is it customary for the Tau'ri to-"

"Turn green when they're about to puke?" Jack interrupted, jumping up, pushing past Teal'c.

Sam was in the hall bathroom. Jack went straight for the master bath, but Daniel had already taken up residence, kneeling at the toilet.

"Dammit, Danny!" Jack groaned heading down the hall again.

Teal'c waited for the sound of retching to die down before putting on the kettle. One by one the team wandered into the living room, pale, clammy, with bloodshot eyes. One by one, Teal'c sat them down and offered a cup of coffee.

Daniel breathed in deeply, taking in the calming aroma of his second cup. "I vote Teal'c is the new team leader," he said with a satisfied sigh.

"Hey," Jack protested from his arm chair.

"He makes coffee," Daniel pointed out. "Solver of all problems. You buy beer, brining of hangovers."

Sam sighed, sitting back in the couch cushions next to Daniel. "You have to admit, sir, the logic is sound."

"I'm real tired of you two kiddos ganging up on me," Jack tried to smother a grin. It was nice to have his normal team back. "I've had enough for a lifetime."

"One of our lifetimes, half of yours," Daniel shot back cheekily, good humor returning with each caffeinated sip.

"Carter, hit him for me. I'm too tired to move."

Without waiting for it to become an order, Sam punched Daniel in the shoulder. He whined good naturedly, but couldn't help chuckling. She started giggling when he punched her back.

"What did I tell you about hitting girls," Jack scolded Daniel, chuckling himself.

Trying to stifle his laughter, Daniel smacking Sam in the leg with the back of his hand. She kicked him in return. By the third set of exchanged kicks, Sam nailed Daniel directly in the ankle bone.

"Okay that one actually hurt," he said between gasps for breath, they were laughing so hard.

"Is this how they behaved as children, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked with a booming laugh.

"Pretty much," Jack admitted. "Okay, guys cut it out before Daniel ends up in the infirmary."

"Poor baby," Sam cooed at him, pinching his cheeks. Daniel slapped her hand away, which started a shoving match.

"Don't make me separate you two."

It took several minutes of not looking at each other and careful breathing before the giggles subsided.

Jack eyed them suspiciously. "Better?"

Not trusting himself, Daniel nodded while Sam said "Yes, sir."

"So we're one more spin around the merry-go-round and we're back to hunky-dorey, right?"

Everyone nodded.

"This calls for pancakes." Jack got up and headed for the kitchen.

"Aw, man!" Daniel suddenly groaned. Everyone looked at him. "Oh, sorry, I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I just realized we won't ever know if we're right."

"After everything we've been through, you're stuck on if you predicted the headaches?" Jack asked him, frowning.

"You're not even curious if we figured it out? It was your formula that…"

"Na-ah!" Jack cut him off. "No science talk. Pancakes."

Undeterred, Daniel looked at Sam. "I guess if we time the next trigger, we can match it up when we get back to base tomorrow, or whenever they let us back in."

"Why wait," Sam smirked at him. She reached over for her purse, sitting on the floor and produced two composition notebooks. After a quick glance to check whose was whose she handed his over. "We have it all right here."

He took the book and opened to the first page:

An analysis of how time passes differently for me, Samantha and Lt. Jack and how come

By: Danny N Jackson

9 years old

April 14, 1999

AN: Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! Hope you enjoyed!


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